


Yesterday's me

by negi



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Muteness, brief mention of hero-related violence and injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 01:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/negi/pseuds/negi
Summary: Hero journalist Johnny Seo gets to the bottom of his makeup artist's secretive past.





	Yesterday's me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [city135](https://archiveofourown.org/users/city135/gifts).



> **Prompt:** Superhero(es), any kind of setup
> 
> i hope this pleases you, my dear recipient ♡ title taken from yestoday's lyrics.

Perfectly warm water bathes Johnny’s scalp in low-pressure waves, soaking his hair and running dangerously close to the back of his neck before being caught by the rim of the sink and splashing down into its porcelain basin. The sensation sends tingles along his body and the fingers carding through his thick strands lull him into a drowsy trance. Extra care is being taken today to get him relaxed and lenient, but no matter how addicted to these hands he’s become, he simply can’t let the elephant in the room slide any longer. He could be dramatic enough to say that this is a matter of life or death, but he’d rather save the sensationalism for his articles. Here, in an empty salon room long after their coworkers clocked out for the day, he only wants honesty.

The hands pull away from his head and the loss of comfort is soon followed by the sound of a plastic cap popping open. Johnny leaves his eyes shut on the off chance that his words will warrant shampoo flung into his face, but he still clears his throat with an air of calm assurance.

“You’re lucky, Taeyong” he says, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair.

There’s no reply from above - only soap being lathered between palms.

“You’re lucky it’s me who figured out who you are.”  
  


━ ⚡ ━

**4 months ago**

Johnny halts at the top of a small flight of stone steps in front of a skyscraper of glass and metal. The morning sun glides across shining windows and makes the snow on the ground a blinding white, but that doesn’t stop him from staring at the building looming over him, nor does the brisk wind pricking at his skin hurry him inside the gold-trimmed door straight ahead. As personable of a man he is, even famed journalist Johnny Seo has his moments of anxious anticipation. He isn’t shy in front of a camera, but his career thus far has been solely behind a computer screen and his medium a keyboard - very different from appearing on a daily news segment for millions to see. He is not too prideful to admit that he’s pretty damn nervous.

A tap on his shoulder snaps Johnny out of his worry. He turns while stepping out of the way of the door, muttering a quick _“sorry”_ with an apologetic bow of his head. When he looks up, he’s met with a smile framed by jet black hair and large, round eyes. It’s a man who seems to be around his age, and they have definitely never met before. Oddly, though, something about him gives Johnny a sense of familiarity.

“This is the National Communications Tower, right?” Johnny asks, both to assure himself that he’s in the correct place and to settle his nerves with friendly small talk.

The man nods and points to a bronze plaque by the side of the door, clearly displaying the name of the building with all of its departments listed beneath it. He reaches for a door handle and heaves the heavy glass open, offering Johnny the first step inside. Johnny takes it, unable to avoid his fate any longer.

“Thanks,” he says, flashing his pearly whites, but all he gets in return is another smile and a wave of a hand before the man passes him and heads to a large marble security desk. _“Odd,”_ Johnny thinks, but he brushes the encounter off and pauses in front of a building directory mounted on a wall. He knows where he needs to go - memorized the suite number days ago - but the grand elevators on the other side of the lobby are intimidating so he’s taking baby steps.

Not a minute later, a voice calls for him. “Mr. Seo, I’m glad you could make it!”

Johnny faces the most popular news anchor in Korea and tries his best to play it cool. “Mr. Choi,” he greets, offering a hand in politeness. “Are you headed up to the studio?”

Mr. Choi grips his hand in a firm grasp and grins, and Johnny sounds like his mother when he thinks about burying himself in those charming dimples. “Actually, I was hoping to run into you,” he says. “I wanted to personally extend my gratitude at your decision to join us here in the newsroom. I know hero journalism still has a ways to go before it’s considered reputable, but I believe someone like you will play a big role in normalizing it in everyday news.”

Johnny can’t help but beam. “That’s an honor to hear, coming from you, Sir.”

Mr. Choi moves his arm around Johnny’s shoulders and begins to guide him to the elevators, launching into a story about the first time he’d ever encountered a hero when he was a young boy. As they pass an array of decorative plants and a very impressive fish tank, Johnny locks eyes with the man he’d met at the front door, now sticking a visitor’s badge onto his baby blue sweater. The man's stare seems purposeful, like it wasn’t mere coincidence that they made eye contact, but a moment later Johnny is whisked away into a waiting lift and taken to the 27th floor and he has no time to dwell on the shared look.

It’s half an hour before Johnny actually makes it to the filming stage, what with Mr. Choi giving him a tour and introducing him to crew members as they cross paths along the journey. He’s left on his own to explore the set and look around, and he’s grateful that there are very few people here at this early time of day. He takes a moment to stare at the anchor desk he’ll soon be seated at, then wanders until he reaches a small room filled with makeup stations, ring lights, and a single salon chair in front of a sink. In the chair is a man with golden clips in his hair - a stark contrast to his styled black locks - and he seems to be engaged in a quiet but serious conversation with the silent stranger from before, who is leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Johnny doesn’t have a chance to decide if he should leave or not, because both men notice his presence and immediately stop communicating. The one with the big eyes observes him carefully again.

Deciding to roll with it, Johnny smiles and enters the room. “Hey, it’s you,” he says to the slightly-less-new face. “We didn’t get a chance to really meet before. I’m Johnny. I’ll be working here starting tomorrow.”

The man nods in greeting but doesn’t speak - at least, not with his voice.

He raises a hand and contorts it into different patterns, and it takes Johnny a moment to realize that he’s signing letters. Johnny had learned basic sign language before, but he’s rusty. The man notices Johnny paying close attention and continues signing, giving him time to decipher it.

“D-- o-- uh? Oh, y-- Doyoung?”

Doyoung nods happily. He signs something much more complicated, and Johnny is effectively stumped.

“Sorry,” Johnny says sheepishly. “I’ve been meaning to take a sign language class at some point, but…”

“He said he heard that you’re a hero journalist,” the other man cuts in, finally speaking up. His voice is slightly deeper than Johnny expected and he can tell that it’s tentative, guarded.

“Yeah, I am,” Johnny says, grin spreading on his face at the mention of his ambitions. “That’s why I'm here. I actually-- this usually sounds silly to people, but I have a blog where I keep up to date on heroes. It started out as a hobby when I was younger, but over time I built up a list of sources and released my own information, and eventually it landed me some guest articles in professional publications. I dabble in photojournalism a bit too and I've been freelancing since I graduated college, but this is definitely the biggest opportunity I've ever gotten.”

Doyoung seems interested, but his friend shifts in his seat. “Can heroes be sustainable?” he asks, receiving a warning glance from Doyoung. “As a career, I mean. Aren’t you banking your whole life on people who could just disappear one day?”

Johnny tries to push any negative first impressions out of his mind, but the defensiveness can still be heard in his words when he retorts with, “Can’t any of us just disappear one day?”

The two share an awkward stare before Doyoung taps Johnny’s arm and begins to sign letters again, but Johnny can’t quite focus anymore, too caught off guard by such a blatantly biased view against his livelihood.

“Taeyong,” the other friend says. “He’s telling you my name.”

Doyoung signs some more.

Taeyong sighs, but whatever Doyoung told him must have worked because he stands from his chair and finally smiles. When his height is obvious, he’s a little less intimidating. “Sorry about that,” he says. “I’m Taeyong. I’m the makeup and hair stylist here. I have a few assistants but I’ll probably work on you personally quite a bit, so let’s get along, yeah?”

Not one to hold meaningless grudges, Johnny puts the conversation behind him and shakes Taeyong’s hand.  
  
  
  
  
Aside from trending topics popping up online on the debate of hero journalism in mainstream media (as well as a decent number of posts from teenage girls wanting to date him), Johnny's first week at the news station passes by smoothly. He quickly adjusts to the fast-paced environment of live broadcast and grows accustomed to speaking into cameras without feeling awkward. Mr. Choi praises him for always delivering his reports eloquently and the general consensus from their executives and sponsors is that Johnny's segment is a hit - superheroes are Hollywood 2.0, they say. Johnny doesn't really like viewing hero journalism as akin to tabloids, but he knows that the information he provides makes people feel safe and offers a better look into the actions of those whom the population puts their trust in, so he lets the comments slide. The only hill he can't quite seem to conquer is Taeyong.

Contrary to their first meeting, Johnny and Taeyong's relationship has been amicable and casually pleasant. They chat about upcoming movies or what they had for dinner the previous night while Taeyong washes and styles Johnny's hair. They sit in cordial silence as Taeyong brushes makeup onto Johnny's still face. On the surface everything is fine, but Johnny just knows that it isn't - years of interviewing civilians tells him so. For some reason, Taeyong is cautious with him.

One evening during a commercial break, Johnny happens to catch Mr. Choi walking out of the styling room after getting his hair touched up. Taeyong is by his side, laughing at something that was said with a real, genuine smile on his face. Johnny always tries to keep his facial expressions in check lest he ruin his makeup, but he can’t help but frown at the clear difference in how Taeyong interacts with Mr. Choi - or anyone else in the studio, for that matter - and himself. When Mr. Choi sits back down at the anchor desk, Johnny slides his chair over and grabs his attention.

“Do you know much about Taeyong?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Mr. Choi moves his head in a so-so motion. “I wouldn’t call us friends outside of work, but he’s always a great guy to have around here,” he says. “Sometimes a bit quiet, but very polite and good-natured. He makes the best spinach puffs at all the holiday parties. Why?”

Johnny nods slowly. “No reason in particular,” he says. “Just wondering. We’re the same age so I thought I should make more of an effort to get to know him.”

Mr. Choi smiles and claps Johnny on the back. “That’s a great attitude to have!”

Johnny holds back a cough and laughs slightly.

“The rest of us here are so much older than you two, after all. But Taeyong works so diligently - he always manages to make me look presentable on my off days - and he’s just a really sweet, caring guy. Like an innocent puppy. I think it would be nice for him to have a same-age friend here.”

Johnny thinks that Mr. Choi has probably never been anything less than model-esque in his life. He also thinks that there are either two Taeyongs, or he did something to make Taeyong dislike him from the moment they met.

Over the next week or so, Johnny tries his best to be nothing but friendly to Taeyong. It’s not that he craves affirmation from everyone he meets (journalism has long since taught him that there are just some characters who will never like what you say), but he hates knowing that he could have done something to offend a person he has to interact with every day. Johnny is a pragmatic guy, and his most basic rule of thumb is that enemies should only be reserved for heroes. Office coworkers should get along. Taeyong isn’t making that ideal very easy, though.

“That Italian place down the street finally opened up a couple days ago,” he says over the sound of the blow dryer. Taeyong makes a noise of acknowledgement as he runs a round brush through Johnny’s hair. “I was thinking of going there for lunch later. Wanna come?”

Taeyong glances at Johnny through the mirror then returns to his work. “Doyoung’s already bringing me food,” he says.

“Oh,” Johnny hums. “Cool, cool… You guys seem close. When did you meet?”

Taeyong shuts off the dryer and begins brushing Johnny’s hair into place. “We’ve always known each other.” He reaches for a container of mousse and clearly doesn’t intend on continuing the conversation on his own.

Johnny tries again. “You’re really good at sign language,” he adds. “Is that how you became friends with Doyoung? Or did you learn it because of--”

Taeyong’s hands yank through Johnny’s hair hard enough to make him wince, though it seems more like a knee-jerk reaction than malicious intent because a second later he looks apologetic. Still, he doesn’t open up. “Learning was the least I could do,” is all he says before he continues to style Johnny’s hair in silence.  
  
  
  
  
Ever since bringing up the apparently touchy subject of Doyoung’s muteness, Johnny vows to himself not to force a relationship with Taeyong. It’s pure coincidence when he returns to work late one night in search of his lost wallet and sees light coming from the studio’s salon. At first he’s only worried about his credit cards, but when he finds his wallet beneath a sound board and no janitor or similar type of employee has left the salon during that time, he decides to check and see if the lights were simply left on by accident. Instead, he walks in to find Taeyong sitting in a chair with a smock covering his clothes and Doyoung standing behind him putting black dye over his roots. Taeyong looks completely relaxed and open, not a hint of a wall up in sight as Doyoung bobs his head to the sound of an inaudible song. Then Taeyong notices Johnny from the corner of his eye and something that could be read as fear flashes across his face. Doyoung blinks in confusion then faces the doorway.

“Evening, Doyoung,” Johnny says with a smile. Doyoung’s never seemed to share Taeyong’s reluctance to be friendly with him so he’s probably Johnny’s best bet at not fucking up again. “Are you a stylist too?”

Doyoung shakes his head but when he raises his hands to sign something, he realizes that he’s hindered by a brush and the thick rubber of his dye-covered gloves. He looks around for a moment for a place to set his things down, but Taeyong taps his wrist and takes over.

“He’s a music teacher for people who use sign language.” A faint smile graces Taeyong’s lips. “He just picked up some things from being around me.”

“That’s really cool, Doyoung,” Johnny says, impressed. “But…” He looks at Taeyong. “Is your hair not naturally black?”

The smile fades from Taeyong’s face and Doyoung hurriedly looks at his handiwork, as if inspecting the dye. He must see a spot out of Johnny’s view that had yet to be covered, because he quickly paints black over the offending color.

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong says instead of answering.

Johnny holds up his wallet. “Looking for this sucker,” he says with a slight laugh. “I didn’t know anyone else was here, sorry. Um… have a nice night.” He nods his head and steps out of the room. “See you tomorrow.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Johnny heads away from the salon, followed by Taeyong muttering, “We’re not talking about this, Doyoung.”  
  
  
  
  
By this point, Johnny is a little perturbed by whatever’s going on between himself and Taeyong. He doesn’t view Taeyong as a bad guy because he doesn’t believe in judging people, but there’s clearly _something_ wrong here. It doesn’t help that everything else about his new job is running so perfectly that Taeyong’s cold shoulder just stands out so, so much. It isn’t until two months into his employment that Johnny is tipped off that whatever _this_ could be is much more serious than workplace pettiness.

_“Are you sure it isn’t too much trouble?”_

“Absolutely, Mr. Choi,” Johnny says into his phone. “I’m still in the area and this is partly my fault for forgetting to make the script changes before you left. I can put the corrections on the exec’s desk for you, in and out in five minutes, tops.”

_“You’re a lifesaver, Seo! I’ll treat you to coffee tomorrow.”_

“I can accept that,” Johnny laughs. He hangs up and tucks his phone into his coat as he exits the café he’d been writing a new article in. He only planned to kill time until rush hour ended, but the current rumors floating around about a band of villains conspiring against notable public figures demanded his attention and nightfall came before he realized it. Adjusting the strap of his laptop case on his shoulder, he walks the few blocks back to work and, at this late hour, swipes his keycard in order to access the elevators. There are still a few people milling about in the building but it’s largely empty and it kind of creeps Johnny out. The only other time he’d been here this late was when he was largely distracted by his rogue wallet, but now that his mind is free to wander, he decides that he definitely would like to do his business and leave the dark corridors quickly.

He accesses the revised script for the next day’s news segments on one of the station computers and prints two copies, placing one on Mr. Choi’s chair and walking the other up to their executive’s office. The room is locked so he slips the documents under the door and he’s making his way down a long hallway lit only by moonlight coming through wall-length windows when he begins to hear voices the closer he gets to a connecting hall. He slows his steps, not wanting to interrupt whomever it may be, but he soon realizes that the men appear to be verging on an argument.

“Look, you already know what my answer is so why are you even here?”

“Because your answers are always lies, Taeyong.”

_Taeyong?_

Johnny could just walk by and pretend that he didn’t hear anything, but curiosity glues him to a wall and he listens instead.

Taeyong scoffs and Johnny can almost picture him crossing his arms defensively. “I don’t do that shit anymore. Period. I can’t.”

“What’s wrong with you?” the other man asks, sounding slightly exasperated. “The Taeyong I know would never call this _shit_. He’d never--”

“The Taeyong you know was a horrible teammate, Jaehyun!” Taeyong snaps. “He was useless and it cost--” A pause, then Taeyong continues quietly. “How can you ask me to come back after what happened to Doyoung?”

Johnny frowns. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but the investigator in him urges him to silently retrieve his phone from his pocket. His gut is saying that this isn’t an everyday spat between friends. He opens the camera and holds it out over the end of the wall just enough to get a clear picture.

There’s a sigh followed by shifting clothes, then the unfamiliar voice - Jaehyun - says softly, “Who do you think asked me to talk to you again?”

_CLICK_

Johnny’s heart lodges in his throat as he yanks his phone back against his chest and he presses a hand over his mouth. He turns the device’s sound off, but the damage has already been done. He hears cursing from around the corner, a _whooshing_ noise, and then dead silence. He peeks at the hallway he’d been spying on and he gasps at the sight of absolutely nobody there. He scrambles to his feet and stares, but not even one figure can be seen making an escape. In an expanse of locked doors and no staircases, two people seemingly vanished into thin air. He steps forward, standing on a shadow cast from a water cooler, and rubs at his eyes. He feels a breeze blow through the hall and notices a lone open window, but it would be impossible for anyone to use it to get in or out this high up.

Something isn’t right.

Johnny shoves his phone back in his pocket and leaves the building in a hurry, running to catch his bus outside a second before it takes off and not calming down until he’s at home and in bed. He’s so unsettled that he only just realizes that he might have captured a clue in the one photo he managed to take before scaring Taeyong and this Jaehyun person off. He sucks in a deep breath and opens his gallery and his jaw drops at what he sees.

There, still clearly visible in a lightless hallway, is possibly the most famous - and definitely the most popular - young hero of this generation of supers, unmistakable in his classic uniform and cape. Taeyong called him Jaehyun, but the world knows him as Casper, a moniker coined in recognition of his ability to fly so fast that onlookers say he resembles a ghost. Flight is but one of his capabilities-- with super strength, endurance, and near-impenetrable skin, he’s an all-rounder and a posterboy of the modern day hero. He’s commonly touted as Korea’s pride and has even participated in peace conventions with other legendary heroes around the world. And tonight he was at Johnny’s workplace talking to his makeup artist.

Johnny shakes his head and buries himself in bed. Whatever this is, he’ll deal with it starting tomorrow.  
  
  
  
  
The next day at work is properly normal. No one else in the entire building is aware of what Johnny saw, and as Johnny is getting his eyebrows shaped he realizes that Taeyong probably doesn’t know it was he who snapped that photo last night. Taeyong seems a little more tense than usual, but he treats Johnny as he does every day.

“Hey, Taeyong?” Johnny calls as Taeyong rummages through a drawer of foundations. Taeyong makes a noise in response. “I’ve only ever seen Doyoung come visit you at work.” Taeyong raises an eyebrow so Johnny smiles as innocently as possible. “I was just wondering if you’ve ever had any other guests signed in under your name. I’m not sure what the policy for visitors is.”

Taeyong spins a makeup brush in his fingers at an impressive speed, like a nervous tick manifesting as a mini baton twirl. “No,” he says. “Only Doyoung.” He notices Johnny watching his skillful hand and holds his brush still. “Anyone can come visit you if you meet them at the front desk. Otherwise they have to be put on a list to enter the elevators alone.”

Johnny nods. “Okay, thanks,” he says. After last night, Taeyong’s behavior appears more suspicious than someone who simply doesn’t want to share about their personal life. Either Taeyong just lied about never meeting anyone else at work, or Casper - Jaehyun - was indeed supposed to be a secret meeting.

Before moving on to contouring Johnny’s cheeks, Taeyong takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror and fix the golden bobby pins glinting under fluorescent lighting against his deep black hair.  
  
  
  
  
It takes a bit of dedicated digging, but that weekend Johnny starts piecing things together. His Saturday morning of flipping through files on heroes known to have connections to Casper doesn’t yield any promising results, but after lunch he realizes that he needs to go _back_. Taeyong and Jaehyun’s whole conversation was about an event that happened in the past. They sounded like former comrades trying to deal with the aftermath of ancient news. He decides to look at old cases and pulls up all information - digital and physical - of Casper’s known assignments and colleagues from a few years ago and beyond. He keeps going farther and farther back in Casper’s career with no luck until he comes across a newspaper headline that rings a bell.

_Team of Sidekicks Narrowly Prevails: Villains Defeated, But at What Cost?_

Johnny recalls following this story in high school. A group of young heroes, all around his age, routinely handled smaller disturbances when their mentors were away. This particular mission turned out to be a lot bigger than anyone expected and the kids took a major beating while just barely managing to save all the civilians in the area. Casper - known as Aero Boy at the time - was on the team, along with six others. They were led by Nightdancer, another rising name in the super field with a remarkable reputation for stealth missions due to his ability to control and move through shadows. He should have had this assignment in the bag but something went wrong - the details were never made public - and one of their teammates nearly died. Johnny skims through the article to refresh his memory and feels his heart sink in his chest at being reminded of the unfortunate outcome for Sonic Blossom, a boy with vocal abilities ranging from ultrasonic screams to hypnotic lullabies. He suffered injuries all over his body and was placed into a medically-induced coma, and once he woke he could no longer speak. With the loss of his power he faded from the limelight and wasn’t heard from again, and though the sidekick team stayed together as a whole, they would begin to undergo member changes, including the sudden departure of their leader, Nightdancer.

“Shit,” Johnny mumbles to himself. He’d always been fascinated with heroes ever since he was a child and finding out that superhumans his age could be killed… It spooked him for sure, but it also inspired him to document everything that he could about these protectors and encourage others to believe in them as much as he did.

Nostalgia trip over, he’s about to scroll past the internet article when a thought occurs to him and he chuckles lightly. “Taeyong is probably hiding the fact that his mute friend is really Sonic Blossom.”

His laugh slowly dies down and he sits there on his floor in silence.

He thinks.

He sits up straight.

“No,” he says. “Nah, that’s…” He looks down at his hands and furrows his brows in thought. “Nah,” he repeats, but the more he considers it the less impossible it sounds. It still sounds pretty far-fetched, but… 

Doyoung and Taeyong are both in his age range, just like the team of sidekicks. A best guess at their teenage heights and body types vaguely matches up to what they could look like now as adults. Doyoung can’t speak, and whether he was born that way or he lost his voice later in life, it’s something that Taeyong doesn’t want to talk about. He almost seemed _guilty_ when Johnny brought it up once. The icing on the otherwise circumstantial cake is that Taeyong mentioned Doyoung’s name - what had _happened_ to Doyoung - to Casper, their teammate. They’re all connected by a tragedy, and if Doyoung is who Johnny thinks he is, then maybe… 

Johnny does a quick search of Nightdancer and pulls up the most high definition photo he can find. Hero masks have evolved significantly in the 21st century and disguise important facial features well, but one thing that always gave Nightdancer away was his brilliant shock of white hair. Hair that, should he decide to quit the hero life, he’d most definitely want to hide.

Hair that he’d want to dye, perhaps.

“Am I fucking crazy?” Johnny asks his empty room at large. He stares at the picture on his laptop screen and presses a thumb to the ex-hero’s hair. “I’m fucking crazy,” he murmurs.  
  
  
  
  
The line between investigation and invasiveness is a fine one, and Johnny tries his best not to cross it. He doesn’t want to make Taeyong uncomfortable, but _god_ , he just really needs to _know._ He can’t stop fidgeting in his chair as Taeyong does his makeup and Taeyong keeps giving him funny looks for it.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Johnny suddenly asks.

Taeyong taps excess blush from his brush on the lid of his compact. “What?”

“The dark,” Johnny repeats. “Are you scared of it, or does it feel natural to you?”

Taeyong answers slowly, “It’s whatever to me.”

Johnny huffs as Taeyong freshens his cheeks and when he feels a breath of air on his face, it takes him a second to realize that it’s Taeyong laughing at him. He’s never seen Taeyong smile because of him before. “What’s your opinion on the color white?” he asks, wondering if Taeyong will share anything else with him.

Taeyong pulls away and something about his expression tells Johnny that he’s getting suspicious. “It’s not enough,” he says as he puts the makeup away. “It’s nothing on its own.”

“I think it has potential,” Johnny says. “It’s hope.”

Taeyong looks at himself in the mirror. “What good is hope when bad things still happen every day?”

Johnny takes a moment to arrange his words carefully. “You don’t like me very much. No, you don’t have to sugarcoat it, I can tell. Is it because I’m a hero journalist?” Taeyong shifts his gaze in the mirror and meets Johnny’s eyes. “Something happened to make you distrust heroes and you resent when people worship them.”

Taeyong reaches up to rub the back of his neck and toys with the black strands tickling his fingers. “I don’t dislike you,” he says, “and I don’t resent people liking heroes. I just can’t understand it. Not anymore.”

“Heroes failed you,” Johnny says, but what he means is _“You failed your team.”_ He doesn’t personally believe that, but clearly Nightdancer did.

“You should get to rehearsal,” Taeyong murmurs.

Johnny can feel Taeyong’s eyes on him as he leaves the salon.  
  
  
  
  
The next day, Johnny takes his hypothesis a step further by complete accident. He’s looking more into the sidekick team mission during lunch on his phone, scouring articles for any angles that could point him to Taeyong or Doyoung, when he gets called away and leaves his phone face-up on a table just as Taeyong happens to pass by. The stylist catches a glimpse at what Johnny was reading and freezes in his tracks. Johnny returns a minute later to Taeyong in deep thought standing over his food, but when Taeyong notices him he scurries away before Johnny can say a word. Then, as Johnny is getting his makeup touched up after eating, Taeyong is quieter than usual. He may lack solid, physical proof, but Johnny can tell from Taeyong’s behavior that he hit the nail on the head and Taeyong knows it.

Taeyong is - was - Nightdancer, and Doyoung was Sonic Blossom before being forced into early retirement.

The victory is great and all but Johnny doesn’t have time to bask in his sleuthing talents. Coincidentally, the 10 year anniversary of that fateful mission is approaching, and with it comes hoards of internet users once again talking about the heroes’ harrowing escape from death, turning it into a trending topic across every social media site. Some use it as an opportunity to share “Where are they now?” articles that document the prolific lives of those who stayed on the hero path and many more share their favorite anecdotes about Casper the heartthrob, but a shocking amount choose to focus on the disappearance of Sonic Blossom and Nightdancer. Conspiracy theorists crawl out of the woodwork, concerned fans wonder if they’re doing alright, hopefuls express their wishes to see the young partners again.

It’s all relatively harmless, if not a little annoying at how easily people are willing to spread misinformation, but soon a mysterious Twitter user quickly catches the public’s attention. They call themselves Ten, in honor of the anniversary date, and they claim to have narrowed Nightdancer’s whereabouts down to one general area in Seoul that includes the location of the National Communications Tower. According to their many tweets, they are grateful for the work that was done by the sidekick team all those years ago and they only want to find Nightdancer to bring him the appreciation they think he deserves, but they seem to have no issue with starting a witch hunt for a man who clearly has no desire to be found. Ten’s information spreads like wildfire and Johnny has no idea who they are or why they know what they know, but everything is getting much too close for comfort. Taeyong is feeling the pressure as well, fidgeting more at work and never quite seeming to relax, and Johnny doesn’t like that. Sure, he looked into the case himself, but that was merely a result of him trying to find an explanation as to why Taeyong seemed to be so offended by his presence. As a hero journalist who respects the subjects of his articles, he simply can’t stand for Taeyong’s peace of mind being put at risk like this. Fortunately for the both of them, his word means a lot in the sphere of hero reporting.

“... And that’s the last time anyone will look down on that rookie hero for her gender, I’m sure,” Johnny says with a smile into the camera.

“We sure hope so,” Mr. Choi remarks. “Now, Johnny, I’m told you have some breaking information you’d like to share about a recent story popping up on hero forums?”

“Yes,” Johnny says, “thank you. As many of you know, the famed sidekick mission featuring a young Casper is coming up on its 10 year anniversary. It was a day where brave kids risked all that they had to save civilians, and we are eternally grateful for their victory. However, not everyone escaped unscathed, as Sonic Blossom bowed out of the hero life due to injury and Nightdancer soon followed for unknown reasons. These departures have recently gained prominence once more, and news has been circulating that Nightdancer was spotted around Seoul-- around the location of this broadcast studio, even.”

“Really!” Mr. Choi says. “Do you think that’s true? Could he even be in this room?”

Laughter pops up around the studio and Johnny joins in, but oh, if they only knew. “While that would be fascinating,” he says, “I regret to inform you that we won’t be getting any Nightdancer autographs any time soon. One of my sources has come forward in light of these rumors to clarify that Nightdancer retired to a quieter, more rural life that he wouldn’t be able to find in the heart of a big city. This is not an invitation to search for him elsewhere, but we both felt the need to put a stop to these rumors before any innocent people are affected by it.”

The show soon wraps up once Johnny’s segment ends, followed by a weather forecast and a traffic report, and no one questions the findings of well-liked Johnny Seo. Even Ten appears to quiet down when it becomes clear that most people will prefer to believe a trusted face like Johnny’s over their anonymity. That night, as Johnny is packing his bag, Taeyong watches him from the doorway of the makeup room. Johnny takes his time and only faces Taeyong once he can’t stall any longer, still not quite sure what kind of a reaction his ruse will get.

“Your hair,” Taeyong says. “Does it feel uncomfortable with that new gel in it?”

Johnny really doesn’t feel much of a difference from the change in products, but this is the first time that Taeyong’s been the one to initiate an interaction with him. “A little,” he says. Taeyong nudges his head towards the room and walks inside, and Johnny follows. He’s guided into the salon chair and wrapped in a towel, and a moment later, warm water trickles over his scalp.  
  


━ ⚡ ━

**Present Day**

Taeyong begins to wash Johnny’s hair, scrubbing shampoo into his roots with gentle hands, and at first Johnny thinks he’s going to ignore everything that happened, but then Taeyong lets out a sigh and says, “Doyoung hated that name.”

Johnny finally opens his eyes and is looking right up into Taeyong’s face, newly vulnerable and candid.

“His first takedown happened in a park with a ton of cherry blossom trees,” Taeyong continues. “There must have been a hundred of them. When he used his sonic scream, all the petals came down and swarmed around the bad guys. It was really pretty, actually. Media dubbed him Sonic Blossom right away and he tried to resist it at first, but eventually he just gave up.” He snorts. “When he woke up from his coma, one of the first things he wrote to me was that he’s glad he doesn’t have to be called Blossom anymore.”

Johnny smiles widely, not at the grim reality of Doyoung’s fate, but at Taeyong actually opening up to him and confirming that Johnny had done the right thing by lying on the news. Confirming that he was grateful for it. “When you said that you don’t understand people liking heroes,” he says in a soft voice, “what you meant was that you stopped believing that you could be a hero, didn’t you?”

Taeyong massages his thumbs along Johnny’s scalp. “I was sixteen and I was given the impossible choice of saving my best friend’s life or getting a civilian family to safety. I knew the risks of the job but just hearing about possible consequences you might face in the future is vastly different than witnessing your teammate’s-- your brother’s throat and body get crushed because you couldn’t do anything to help him. He’s moved on by now but I can’t. He tells me over and over again that I made the right choice but I still blame myself every day.” He smiles sadly. “Stupid, huh?”

“Not at all,” Johnny insists. “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I’ve interviewed hundreds of people affected by villains. Trauma is a serious thing and no one should blame you for leaving. I don’t, at least.”

They fall silent for a while, Taeyong carefully washing every bit of Johnny’s hair, until he starts rinsing the shampoo out and he speaks again. “You saw me talking to Casper?”

“I did.”

“He always tells me to come back. To be a hero again. Doyoung does, too.”

Johnny hums. “It sounds like they know you better than you want to admit.”

Taeyong laughs as he reaches for a conditioner bottle. “Not you too,” he says. “I’ve been out of the game for so long, it wouldn’t make sense. People need heroes who won’t hesitate to save them.”

“But you didn’t hesitate,” Johnny says. “Not really. You made the split-second decision to rescue innocent people. You were their hero that day.”

Taeyong doesn’t speak again until he’s urging Johnny up from his chair and towling his wet hair off. With his walls down, the aura within this room that Johnny sits in every day feels different. In the air is hope, an emotion that Taeyong’s tried so hard to tell himself that he can’t afford, smothering it in blackness and keeping it away from the world. “That was a different life,” Taeyong says before turning on the hair dryer and blocking out any more conversation.  
  
  
  
  
The hype of the sidekick mission eventually dies down, but in its wake comes another problem.

When Taeyong enters work one morning, he’s met with chaos: PAs are running to and from fax machines, technical staff are preparing for an emergency broadcast, and shouting can be heard from every corner of the studio as people relay incoming information and bark corrections to outdated reports. He manages to catch a PA and ask what’s going on.

“That group of villains who claimed responsibility for attempted assassinations last month are back,” she says through labored breaths. “This time they’re going after journalists. They released a manifesto and called out hero journalists, specifically, but other civilians can be affected so we need to get safety information from the police out immediately.”

Taeyong thanks her and lets her go, then squeezes past throngs of people to get to his makeup room. He has a few rush jobs as on-sight reporters dash in and out before heading to notable locations to report from, so he doesn’t get a chance to really notice anything off until around 9:30 when he finally manages to catch a breather. It takes him a second to put two and two together, but then he realizes that he has yet to see the station’s own hero journalist amongst the threat of an attack on hero journalists. He asks around and finds out that Johnny hasn’t come in yet, nor did he call in sick or alert anyone that he was running late.

Prompt and professional Johnny Seo is nowhere to be found and no one knows why.

Taeyong, having exchanged numbers with Johnny once the ice between them broke, tries his cell but gets directed straight to voicemail. He calls again, and again, and again, with no luck. He frowns. Of all the days for Johnny to be unreachable… 

“Fuck,” he huffs as he finds an empty computer and accesses the employee information sheet. He reads over Johnny’s address then slips into a dark corner out of sight and sinks into the black embrace of shadows. He reaches Johnny’s front door in no time and before he can knock, he hears a loud clatter inside, convincing him to slip into the sliver of shadow on the threshold and materialize again inside the home.

Johnny screams, but not at a villain holding an advanced biotech weapon to his head.

_“Taeyong?”_

Johnny looks frazzled and disoriented, but otherwise healthy and untouched. Taeyong frowns.

“What the hell!” he snaps.

Johnny blinks. “What?”

“You didn’t answer my calls!” Taeyong practically scolds, pointing a finger at Johnny’s chest. “You weren’t at work and no one could reach you!”

“I know, I know, fuck,” Johnny groans, rubbing at his face. “My alarm broke and I forgot to charge my phone so my backup alarm died and I literally _just_ woke up ten minutes ago. I was going to call someon--”

 _“There are villains targeting people like you, and you just_ forgot _to charge your phone?”_ Taeyong shouts.

Johnny drops his hands. “Wait, what?”

“God, I thought you were in trouble!” Taeyong continues, tossing his hands up then letting them fall to his sides. “How can you not know what’s going on? This is your _job_ , Johnny! You’re in the public eye, you need to keep up with these things. I can’t believe I rushed over here-- Why are you looking at me like that?”

Johnny bites at his lip to hold back a smile but he isn’t doing a very good job at hiding his amusement. He steps forward and Taeyong eyes him wearily.

“You were ready to be a hero.”

Taeyong’s eyes widen in realization and he quickly shakes his head. “This is different,” he says.

“How?” Johnny asks.

“It just is,” Taeyong quips, but his tone has no fight in it. He glances down and rubs at his arm - thinking, considering, possibly trying to talk himself out of accepting. Johnny leans in and rests his forehead against Taeyong’s, and Taeyong has nowhere to look but up into eyes gleaming with mirth.

“I don’t think hope has to be such a lonely color,” Johnny says.

Taeyong touches the hair at his neck and hums. They stand there for minutes but Johnny doesn’t rush him. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he finally admits. “It’s still hard for me to imagine being in a situation like that again.” He drops his hand and smiles tentatively. “But I suppose not being afraid of the dark is a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> first off, i would like to give a huge thank you to the secret santa mods for being so accommodating with me! i really wanted to finish a fic so that my recipient would have a gift and they made sure i could do it~
> 
> secondly, oh my god i'm so sorry that this turned out to barely be romantic at all?? my original idea was much more plot-heavy and would have at least involved a kiss, but due to time constraints and editing this is how it ended up... i felt like forcing a kiss into the last scene wouldn't really fit with where tyong and johnny were at so i left it out ;; just know that they do get together in this universe and they are very much in love lol. 
> 
> this fic was a ride and i'm not sure how i feel about it, but i hope that it can bring some of you (especially my recipient) a little joy this holiday season despite its more platonic nature!  
>   
> 
> 
>   
> say hi!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/negibun) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/negibun)  
> 
> 
>   
> more about this universe:  
>   
> the fic's original plan - [x](https://curiouscat.me/negibun/post/770977255)  
> does taeyong become a hero again? [x](https://curiouscat.me/negibun/post/771917395)  
> 


End file.
